Guns & Bullets
by CloakedDragonWing3721
Summary: Jason's sinking further and further into madness, and Dick comes up with a plan to bring him back into the family. He's determined to carry out his plan, whether or not it kills him.
1. Guns

**A/N:** This hit me at 11:10 and I almost screamed with glee at the idea. The Batclan's view of Jason is that he's turned into a criminal, as bad as the ones he kills, especially Joker. I took that idea and sprinted into the sunset with it. Taylor Swift's Look What You Made Me Do is the soundtrack. Maybe Empty Gold by Halsey. And Gasoline by Halsey. Trigger warnings for… um… attempted fratricide, dark themes, and suicidalish thoughts.

Dick sighed as he watched footage of Jason on the Batcomputer. He loved his little brother, but said little brother had committed mass murder last Wednesday and his killings were getting worse, more like torture than the 'bringing the scum to justice' that he usually did. Dick winced when he realized that he now would be relieved if his brother killed one person a week.

"Dick?"

Nightwing turned around to see Tim in his Robin costume but without a mask. "Hey Timmy."

Tim stared at the footage of Jason on a killing spree for a long second. "He's not getting better. He may never get better Dick."

Nightwing whirled around and gave Robin a glare. "Are you suggesting I give up on him?"

Robin held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying that he may be as far gone as the Joker at this point."

Dick kept glaring at Tim. "How would you feel if I abandoned you because you went mad?"

Tim flinched hard, but Dick didn't notice. He was too lost in his own little world, comparing Red Hood to Joker. He felt like crying when he realized that the similarities between Jason and Joker outweighed the differences.

Then he got a terrible idea.

It could kill him.

But perhaps… even if it did kill him, it would be worth it.

A way to bring Jason back to them.

Dick promised himself, right then and there, that he would complete this plan, even if it killed him. Hell, maybe the results would be better if he died.

 **000000000**

He got it set up.

Dick contacted Wally first. "Hey Wally."

"Uh, hi Dick. What's up?"

"I need some help."

"Hey, I'm out of the heroing business and-"

"Wally, I _will_ die if you don't help me. You don't have to be in the suit, I just need you to catch someone falling off a building and run them to the Batcave."

"Dick, you're not _planning to jump off a building_ , are you?"

"No. It won't be me. You know I hate the idea of dying like Mami and Tati."

"But-"

" _Wally_. Trust me."

"O-okay. When and where?"

"In front of the Wayne Enterprises Bludhaven branch on the fifteenth. 11:30 to 12:30, I don't know the exact timing, but it'll be in that window. Don't be late, Wally. It's a matter of life and death."

"Dick, _please_ tell me what's going on."

"I can't, but you'll find out soon. I promise it'll all be okay if you catch that guy and run him to the Batcave."

"Okay, Dick. I-I trust you."

It tore at Dick's heart that he had lied to Wally, but Wally would never have let him go through with it if he knew Dick would be falling off a building, much less if he knew the rest of it.

This stunt could be his last performance, but he refused to back down. If this was how he died, he would go out gladly.

Maybe then he wouldn't have to endure the countless lectures on how stupid he was.

 **000000000**

Dick sealed up the last letter, wiping tears from his eyes. It felt kinda like he was going to suicide, even if he had taken precautions (namely, one Wallace West) to ensure he _didn't_ die. But it was incredibly risky. If he ended up on the wrong roof, hell, the wrong _side_ of the roof, he was dead. If Wally wasn't fast enough, he was dead. He could die so easily. There were millions of things that could easily go wrong, and this was so incredibly _stupid_ , but he didn't care. He was doing this to save Jason.

He would do anything for Jason.

Dick stood up shakily, made sure that there was no evidence of him crying, and set off to Barbara's.

Oracle looked up at Dick, clothed in civvies. "Hey, FBW." She tilted her head up to receive a loving kiss from Dick. Yes, they were on-again. They had been going steady for four months, so hopefully it would last. If she didn't murder him after the stunt he was going to pull.

"Hey Babs." He smiled lovingly at her, the special smile reserved for Barbara, with just enough adoration in his gaze to show that he loved her but not enough to push her away.

"I need a favor." He continued. "Could you deliver this letter to Jason in two weeks unless I say otherwise?"

Barbara accepted the letter. "Why?"

Dick grinned at her. "You should find out in about a week. _Please_ don't look at it, it's for Jason."

"...okay."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." They hooked pinkys and shared a smirk, remembering when they had sworn to be best friends forever when Dick was nine and she ten. They had sealed it with a pinky promise.

As Dick turned to leave, Barbara frowned. "Whatever's going on, please be careful, Dick."

Dick turned back to her and kept walking backwards towards the window. "Me? Careful? Never."

 **000000000**

It was the big night. September fifteenth. _Showtime_.

Dick suited up, no nervous butterflies. Those had been trained out of him by the time he was ten. Instead there was cold, ruthless determination to finish it, for better or for worse.

It was 11:00 and Nightwing worried. Would Red Hood show up?

 _Red Hood on East and thirteenth. Armed and on a motorcycle. No fatalities yet._ The report came over the police radio. Nightwing's eyes lit up when he realized that he wouldn't have to maneuver Jason into a motorcycle chase, he already was on one.

Dick showed up on the scene on the Nightcycle, successfully drove Jason into a bloodthirsty rage with well-timed references to time spent together before Jason's death and calling his hatred of Joker unimportant.

The last straw was when Dick taunted Jason with the fact that Dick hadn't gone to his funeral. It drove a knife into his heart to see the reeling shock and pain written all over Jason's countenance. He rode off, fleeing for Bludhaven with an enraged Jason who was blinded by pain and a need for answers in tow.

 **000000000**

Muttering curses, Dick checked his watch. It was 11:51. The clock was ticking. He had roughly 39 minutes or he would be forced to abort or follow through without his safety net… which would be suicide. What scared Dick was that the idea of following through anyway didn't scare him. At all. _Save Jason_. _Everything else can burn_.

Before he knew it, Nightwing was at the WE building. He ditched the Nightcycle… literally. Nightwing turned off the ignition and jumped off the bike, letting it crash and hitting the ground running. He began ascending the building via grapple, hearing Jason's muffled curses and praying that Jason wouldn't shoot him before he got answers.

Dick was climbing the back of the building, because Wally was in the front, and hero or not, Wally would try to save him from his maniacal brother. That wouldn't do.

Nightwing was aiming for martyrdom, after all.

Finally, he hit the top of the roof. Nightwing sprinted past the WAYNE signage and stopped at the very edge of the roof, then pivoted to face his younger brother, who had halted just past the glowing letters.

Jason was beyond pissed. He was in a full-out Lazarus rage, the likes of which he hadn't experienced since he had first been revived.

Nightwing fought to keep his body relaxed as Jason let out a mocking laugh. "How fitting that I'm going to shoot you under the light of Daddy's name, Golden Boy." It shook Nightwing to the core to hear how readily Jason said he would shoot his older brother. Then again, he had said _shoot_ , not _kill_. There was a difference.

Dick needed Jason to go for a kill shot. Specifically, his chest.

"You have questions." Unlike before, Dick dropped the mocking tone.

Jason was too far into his madness to calm down. "You didn't go to my funeral?!"

Dick eyed Jason wistfully. "I was on Tameran."

Jason tore off his helmet and domino mask, showing Dick the twisted sneer and madness-brightened green eyes he now wore. "You couldn't bother to get here! The funeral was a week after my death!"

Nightwing just shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to break his brother's heart by actually telling him he didn't care. The truth was, he _did_ care, but Bruce hadn't told him Jason was dead until weeks later, after he got back from Tameran and after the funeral, and he only told Dick because he kept asking where Jason was.

Shaking his head worked well enough. Jason cocked the handgun.

Nightwing pulled up the lenses of his mask to expose his eyes. Peaceful blue met rage-filled green. "You wouldn't shoot me. No matter how much you proclaim that you hate Batman, you won't hurt me, even though you know it'll hurt him more than anything else. You're just a knockoff of me." The last line was delivered with a sneering tone, but Nightwing's expressive eyes betrayed him.

Or, at least, they would have if Jason hadn't been lost to a bloodthirsty haze of red.

Jason leveled the gun at Nightwing's chest. Nightwing helped him by holding his arms out to his sides, exposing his chest and making it a tempting target. "You can't shoot me. Not fatally, at least."

Jason's eyes narrowed and missed the grief in his elder brother's gaze.

"You've always been a fool, Nightwing."

The gun went off.

The center of Nightwing's blue bird symbol turned red.

Nightwing kept a calm smile as he saw the rage dissipate in Jason's eyes and horror enter them.

He dropped the gun.

Nightwing smiled serenely. "I love you, little wing. I'm doing this for you."

He coughed up blood, still smiling peacefully. Only ten seconds had passed since he was shot, but it felt like hours.

Arms still held out from his sides, Nightwing gracefully tipped backward off the building, his brother's horrified scream echoing in his ears.

The wind whipped around Nightwing. He felt oddly at peace as he fell, not knowing if Wally would catch him, finding that he didn't really care.

He would enjoy this one last flight.

Then, a red flash of lightning and Nightwing was being transported to Gotham at the speed of sound, Wally screaming at him to keep his eyes open.

Before Dick could mumble out a response, he was in the Cave, Tim staring at Dick in terror and Wally yelling at Bruce, "He's been shot in the chest!"

Bruce's cry of "Alfred, prep the med-bay, Dick's been shot in the chest!" brought back memories Dick wasn't prepared for. Memories of the same thing being screamed years ago, when he was sixteen and Robin.

That was the point of this recreation, though.

Dick blacked out wondering if Jason would mourn him, and Bruce telling him, "keep your eyes open, chum, keep fighting!"

 **A/N:** Aaaaand… come back for the rest. This'll be a two-or-three shot. Dick's gonna catch hell if he survives. And what does Dick mean by 'recreation?' What's his full plan? And what exactly was he reenacting and why? Take a guess in the review section! Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!

Out of curiosity, how many of you are flipping out right now? Let me know via review and I'll reply back!


	2. Bullets

**A/N:** Hey CHEESEPUFF, I'm alive and in decent health! Yes, I'm late, what else is new? This chapter is ridiculously long though, as a reward for being so very patient. Lovely support, and I may not update faster the more reviews I get, but I feel _guiltier_ the more updates I get. Starting this Tuesday at 2:05 pm, EST, Let's see how long it takes me to update this time! This is officially a two-shot, so, no asking for sequels! The closest thing to a medical course I am taking is biotech, and we learn literally nothing about humans in that, so I know nothing about bullet wounds. Nor did I research. Yay for artistic license!

A slow, steady beeping filled the med bay of the Batcave. The room was a small tunnel off the main cave that had doors that could lock to protect the injured inside, and was stocked with the best medical equipment money could buy. Same went for the beds, which had holographic displays showing patient's health, and were more comfortable than any hospital in the world. With Alfred around, the food was better than any other hospital food in the world, too.

The Batcave's medbay was used sporadically. Most injuries were grave enough to be fussed over, but not grave enough that the vigilante in question was willing to stay in bed for a precious night. Leg and head injuries were truly the only ones that could get the Batcave's residents to stay in the medbay for long.

Currently, the Bat-med-bay (as dubbed by eleven-year-old Robin I) was occupied by far more people than usual. The long shadow of the master of the house, out of his iconic cape and cowl, graced the room, along with regular visits from Alfred bringing sustenance and random visits from Tim looking in anxiously, when his worry overwhelmed him. Barbara Gordon and Wally West had also stopped by a few times.

And, of course, there was the patient of the med-bay. Richard Grayson lay, pale and wan, in one of the hospital beds, farthest away from the door and in the safest position from attacks on the Batcave. Dick was still, with white bandages wrapped around his bare torso and white sheets helping to show exactly how pale he was.

Nightwing was a wreck. Covered in bruises from his fight with Red Hood and his fall off Wayne Enterprises, scrapes randomly all over his body, a little road rash on his right arm from his rocky dismount from the Nightcycle, and, of course, the bullet hole in his chest and the complimenting broken ribs, punctured lung, and deep-tissue bruises from CPR when his heart had stopped during surgery.

Bruce had silently been vowing vengeance and death on whomever had dared to shoot Dick in the chest. What the big question was, was whom exactly he had sworn vengeance upon, exactly. A bullet to the chest was both common and uncommon. The suspect list was currently Deadshot, Deathstroke, Black Mask, and Joker, however, there were problems with each suspect. Deadshot was known to be in Keystone right now. Deathstroke would never kill Nightwing, they had too much history, with Deathstroke, a kidnapping was much more likely. Black Mask had been weakened by an onslaught by Two-Face (Who was not behind the shooting, as Deathstroke used a double-barreled rifle, and the bullet was from a handgun) and didn't currently have thugs with the level of skill required to inflict this kind of damage on a highly-trained vigilante like Nightwing. Joker… well, he was in Arkham, and had been since months before the attack. Bruce had checked. It also wasn't Joker's style, to do something this quietly. Joker was only on the list because he had shot Dick off a building before, in an eerily similar way.

And so the World's Greatest Detective's mind worked in overdrive while watching over the battered body of his eldest.

He never suspected his middle child was the culprit.

 **000000000**

Jason threw up violently into his toilet.

Anyone who was anyone knew that Nightwing had been seen falling off the Wayne Enterprises Bludhaven branch and had been caught by a speedster, and that the Blue Knight of Bludhaven had been injured. Bets were being exchanged, and villains were laying claim to Nightwing's life.

Jason hadn't declared his involvement. He never would.

It would have earned him invaluable street credit, but Jason could never take pride in trying to murder his brother.

After the fact, Jason could picture Nightwing's loving eyes shining through the open eyeholes of his mask. All he could remember was Nightwing calling him 'little wing,' quite probably for the last time.

Jason screamed and prayed and cried and destroyed things and massacred everyone who tried to take credit for Nightwing's possible death (villains who had been around the block didn't believe Nightwing was dead for a second) and threw up and had nightmares.

Most of all, Jason begged to know why Nightwing had let Jason shoot him.

Because now he could remember the pain in Nightwing's body language and eyes, and knew he hadn't meant what he said.

So why did Nightwing want Jason to shoot him? Was he suicidal?

Was he still alive?

In his darkest moments, Jason wondered if he would subject Nightwing to the Lazarus Pits if he was dead.

Jason hoped not.

But he was terribly uncertain.

 **000000000**

The first time Dick woke up, he opened his eyes for all of two seconds, saw a gray ceiling full of stalactites, and passed out again.

The second time, Dick woke up for about 20 seconds, spied Bruce standing up and hurrying towards him, murmured, "Brssss…" then realized how much pain he was in and fainted again.

The third time, Dick woke up to Bruce holding a glass full of water to his lips and helping him drink. Bruce whispered comforting words, and Dick fell back into unconsciousness, this time a natural and restful sleep.

The final time, Dick woke up to Bruce hovering over him and murmuring encouraging words. Bruce also held a glass of water, which Dick gratefully gulped down. Only through sheer willpower did Dick not pass out when he tried to sit up. Bruce promptly pushed his shoulder down to keep him still.

"Stop. You'll pull your stitches. Pain level?"

Nightwing took a second to think about it. "Hmm… five if I don't move. Definitely manageable."

"Good. Who did this to you?"

And here was one of Nightwing's dilemmas. Tell Bruce everything, manipulate him into filling out his plan, or tell Bruce what to do, but refuse to tell him why. Dick went with option three.

"I can't tell you."

"Why?" Bruce was not in the mood to play games. He wanted to find the person who hurt Dick, and make them pay, then help Dick recover.

"I don't want you to hurt them."

Bruce let out a frustrated noise, clearly conveying his irritation. "Why?"

"Because I wanted him to shoot me."

"WHAT?!"

"I can't tell you what's going on, but if I tell you to capture someone- who _is not_ the person who shot me- would you bring them here for me?"

"Here?"

"Blindfolded, of course."

"Will you help me catch who shot you if I do."

"If you want to catch them afterwards, then we'll see."

"...fine. Who do you want me to bring here?"

"Red Hood."

 **000000000**

When the Bat crashed through the roof, prepared for a fight, Jason just stood up and raised his hands in the classic 'surrender' position. "Is he okay?"

Batman was taken aback. How long had it been since Jason had spoken to him without hostility?

Years.

"He's going to be fine. He wants me to bring you to the Batcave to see him."

Jason studied Batman. He was not getting beaten into the ground, so Jason could guess that Dick hadn't told Batman who had shot him. "I can't see him any other way?"

Jason _needed_ to see Dick. He needed answers, and to know that his big brother was actually okay, and Batman wasn't lying to him.

"Alright. I'll come with you."

Batman froze up a bit. _Jason_ was going to be in the _Batcave_. This was going to be amazing or disastrous.

 **000000000**

Dick's nails dug into the skin of his palms. He was waiting nervously on the chair in front of the Batcomputer that Batman always occupied. Alfred had helped him put on loose pants and had wheeled him in a wheelchair to the Batcomputer (advising him to remain in bed and sleep all the way). However, Dick still didn't have anything on under his Nightwing-themed hoodie, which was open as per Alfred's request (demand) to be able to see if he ripped his stitches and started bleeding. The lack of proper clothing (and mask) unnerved Dick, and made him feel oddly vulnerable in his childhood home.

Then, the Batmobile roared up and Dick stiffened. Time to face the music.

Batman swept out of the Batmobile and immediately stiffened. _Why is Dick out of bed?!_

"You shouldn't be out of bed."

Dick smiled grimly. "I feel the need to sit up for this." Batman looked at him inquisitively, but Dick offered no explanations. Finally, Batman sighed and opened the other door, revealing Jason without his helmet, but with a blindfold on over his red domino mask. Dick shook his head when he saw the blindfold. "Really? He already knows the way here."

Jason's head whipped around at the sound of Dick's voice. "D-Nightwing?" Dick noticed that Jason was going to call him Dick, and changed his mind, but he let it go.

"Hi Jason."

Jason was reeling. Dick was acting like nothing had happened. He was acting like Jason wasn't the reason there were thick, white bandages wrapped around his torso under his hoodie. Jason sucked in a breath. He had to apologize, no matter how lame 'sorry' would sound next to a bullet hole. "Nightwing… I-I'm so-"

Nightwing interrupted him quickly. "Not now, Jason. I need you to see something, first." Dick swiveled the batchair (another term coined by young Robin I) and typed a string of quick commands. Footage came up, recognizably from the maskcam in the first Robin's domino mask. Jason had a terrible feeling, and Bruce's heart sank as he realized when the footage was from.

 _Robin was grappling up the side of the building, the camera in his mask pointed up at his destination, the top of the Gotham Wayne Enterprises tower. He arrived at the scene to Batman fighting off a horde of Joker thugs in clown masks and Harley Quinn, while Joker laughed and worked on a complicated machine that would probably destroy either Gotham or the world. No one had noticed Robin yet, so he stealthily ran towards Joker. Right as Robin thought that he would be able to get the jump on Joker, one of the goons yelled a warning to their boss and the Clown Prince of Crime whirled around, gun in hand, towards the Boy Wonder._

" _Bird Boy! How nice of you to join the party!" Robin glared at his mentor's archnemesis. Neither of them spared a glance towards Batman, who was still struggling against Harley and Joker's army of thugs._

 _The clown backed the young vigilante towards the edge of the roof, until Robin was glancing backwards nervously at the ground, far, far below. Joker's manic grin grew, and he spat, "Tsk, tsk, birdie. You've never been as smart as Batsy, but trying to sneak up on me is especially stupid. Well, you've always been a fool. Bye, birdie!" With those final words, the gun discharged and Robin was sent plummeting down the side of the building. The last thing that was picked up by the maskcam was Batman diving desperately after his young protege and Joker's hysterical laughter ringing in the audience's ears._

Batman was pale, remembering turning around to see Joker cornering and then shooting Robin. Jason's complexion was that of a ghost's, seeing the parallels between his shot and the Joker's. Before either of them could think of something to say, the second clip was playing.

 _The footage was clearly from another maskcam, a quick glance downwards revealing that the mask belonged to Nightwing._ _A fearful glance backwards revealed Red Hood chasing Nightwing up the side of the building with his own grappling hook._

Jason felt sick as he recognized the scene.

 _Nightwing hit the edge of the room and ran for the other side, turning around as he reached it to reveal that they were atop another Wayne Enterprises building, this one the Bludhaven branch. Red Hood had stopped just in front of the glowing WAYNE signage. Red Hood laughed, clearly angry beyond measure._

" _How fitting that I'm going to shoot you under the light of Daddy's name, Golden Boy."_

Bruce paled and turned to stare at Jason, who looked like he was going to be sick. "What-"

Dick cut him off. "Not now."

" _You have questions." Nightwing's voice was serious._

" _You didn't go to my funeral?!"_

Bruce flinched as he remembered that it was his fault that Dick hadn't been able to go, trying to protect Dick from his younger brother's death. That had not gone well.

" _I was on Tameran."_

 _Red Hood yanked off his helmet and domino mask, face twisted in a sneer. "You couldn't bother to get here! The funeral was a week after my death!"_

 _Nightwing's flinch was obvious, watching through the camera. Nightwing kept egging Jason on, Jason cocking the gun._

 _This continued until Jason pointed the gun at Dick's chest and said, "You've always been a fool, Nightwing."_

Both Jason and Bruce cringed, drawing connections between Jason and the Joker.

 _Nightwing was shot, but managed to stay upright for a few more seconds. Jason quickly came to his senses, and realized what he had done._

" _I love you, little wing. I'm doing this for you."_

 _The camera bent down while Nightwing coughed, revealing blood._

Bruce took a sharp breath.

 _Then the camera's view was a blur of dull colors until a vivid flash of yellow carried Nightwing to the Batcave and the feed shut off._

All three vigilantes were quiet, staring at the dark computer screen. Bruce spoke first.

"Nightwing… Jason… what…" he fell silent again.

Jason felt like he was going to throw up again, but he swallowed hard and got himself under control. "Dick… I'm so…. I'm so sorry…" Jason felt as though his throat was closing up.

" _I'm as evil as the Joker…_ " Jason whispered.

Dick stared up at Jason from where he sat in the Batchair. "This has to stop. Doesn't this prove what Bruce and I have been telling you for years?! You're becoming the very thing you fight, Jason."

Jason was clearly in shock, staring into space, but his older brother's words registered and he nodded slowly.

Dick leaned forward and grabbed Jason's hand. "Please, Jason. Let me help you. _Please_."

Jason shook his head, but didn't retract his hand, letting the warmth of Dick's hand reassure him that his brother was still alive. "I-I don't deserve-"

"Bull. Jason-"

"I shot you! I tried to murder you! I wanted you dead! How can you stand to look at me?!" Jason shuddered and looked away from Dick, towards the floor. He felt sick, seeing the white bandages that wrapped Dick's pale torso.

Dick squeezed Jason's hand. "Because _I love you_ , Jason! You're my little brother! Because _I forgive you_!" Both boys panted quietly from their outbursts, Dick staring at Jason's face, and Jason staring at the ground.

" _Please, Jason_."

Jason nodded slowly. "Alright. Alright. I-I'll try."

Dick grinned, his patented smile lighting up the Batcave and reassuring Jason that he had made the right choice.

"That's all I ask."

 **A/N:** And fin. Goodness, that's a lot of words. Guess what, I bought a Nightwing hoodie and it is SO SOFT. It's perfect. I ordered a really nice Nightwing mask, which should come in the mail in the next few days, and I'm super excited. I'm gonna be Nightwing for Halloween! Of course, I'll just be watching Netflix at home with my friend Lilly and making sure the dog doesn't jump on anyone while I hand out candy to kids, but still! Shoutouts!

Invisible Observer 3, Fireswords1004, AlecGateway, AppleTheAmazing, DaughterOfLoki1, Aly Day, Guest, Guest, Guest, and IlovemyRobins.


End file.
